


same cosmic dust

by theGALRAempire



Series: the dads of marmora [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), God so much angst in later chapters you dont even know, Hurt/Comfort, Keith-Centric, Lore - Freeform, M/M, Multi, automatic nut tho am i right or what, blade of marmora, i explain so much shit you dont even know, i live for galra keith and altean lance, keith's mom is definitely hot, so fluffy in the beginning bc keith is a baby, the dads of marmora, will tag some more as i go lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:58:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9632705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theGALRAempire/pseuds/theGALRAempire
Summary: “...He should not exist.”“No, he should not. But he does.”When Kolivan meets the gaze of Keith again, the stars are reflected brilliantly in the glossy orbs as he stares forward in curious wonder. He looks away.He should not be alive. But he is.Or: The Dads of Marmora don't know how to raise a kid---a human one,no less, but they make the best with what they have.He has always been destined for great things.





	1. age 0

**Author's Note:**

> whats up guys im back with a new story !!! this is basically to help tide over my need to write while i rip my hair out trying to finish the second chapter of you make me fade !!! i thought this was a pretty cute idea ,, like immediately after i watched season 2 i was like "they all have to be dads and raise keith rIGHT NOW" and thats how this story was born  
> ive been thinking about this for a while and i think i know how i want this to go !!! btw there are lots of galra ocs from other people and myself included (i made a fucking self insert bc im terrible) but do not fear !! im only using them for world building and interaction, of course :)))  
> and yes, i HAVE seen the art on tumblr of the dads of marmora !! it is incredibly cute and this story is not at all affiliated with those pics at all !! like i said, this has been going through my head for a while and i just wanted something to busy myself with while i try not to sob over my school work (if youre wondering im a junior in high school and shit is crashing down around me but hey this is fine) so please dont assume that this was inspired by the artwork please, bc it wasnt !!!  
> this is going to be a pretty long ride, going through keith's ages as he's raised by some secret galra organization that has no idea how to even remotely raise a kid ,, i also just wanted to give some more character to the galra that we saw for maybe five seconds bc honestly i think antok is hella cool and tHACE WAS MY DADDY I CANT BELIEVE HES DEAD IM SO UPSET STILL  
> this should be fun :)))  
> anyway, happy reading !! -aliv

When a Blade returns, it is usually not a cause for shock. 

But the Blade that returns has been missing for nearly fifteen years, and Kolivan has to steal his gaze as the mask of his companion distills into the air like heated water. 

The child on her hip burbles. 

“No.” Is the first thing he says, and immediately, her face falls as she shifts the child in her arms, clearly distraught. Kolivan scans the exhaustion on her face, the way her eyes slant exotically, almost too beautiful to be apart of a warrior race. The dark ringlets around her face are cut short, framing her neck and her high cheek bones, and the clothes she wears are not of any material he’s seen before. 

“Kolivan, please, I know---I _know_ I’ve been gone for too long to ever take me back, I am aware of this. But _please_ , do me this favor. I beg of you,” She pleads quietly, and her distress must affect her child, because moments later, quiet, pitiful crying reaches his ears, and he inhales. 

“This is no place for a child, let alone a child of half inheritance, Virya. You understood the consequences of bearing while being apart of a brotherhood. This is no exception.” He states, and he knows it sounds cold, harsh even. 

Her face crumbles slightly, and she rocks back and forth as she pats the bundle in her arms. A pale, chubby hand reaches forward to grab her finger, the small digits barely large enough to wrap around the claw; Kolivan watches in fascination as her face contorts into pained fondness, before golden eyes meet his own once again. 

“I know this is--- _asking_ for a lot, Kolivan. You don’t understand what I’ve seen, you don’t understand the planet he was born on. I just---” 

“And I have not changed by statement. You are no longer welcome here, child or not. This is--- _we are at war._ We do not have the capabilities to raise the child of a _traitor_ , let alone of our own.” Kolivan presses, firmly, hands clenched behind his back as she faces away from him with a scowl. 

For a moment, they are at peace, each watching the destruction of a faraway star from the bay window. It explodes and shatters like glass, and he watches as blue glitter is cast out in all directions as the core begins to fall towards itself. He perks suddenly, glancing left, Virya’s voice soft as she--- _sings_ to the bundle, rocking it and patting the bottom of the blanket with an open palm. It is too domestic for him to watch, and he looks away from the contradiction of what he is seeing. 

She is a killer, but she is holding purity in her arms. 

Shaking his head, he faces her once again, and she looks up to him in accordance. Though what she has done plagues him with indifference, he still shares mutual respect with her, as much as she doesn’t deserve it. 

“I think it best you leave. Soon.” 

She scowls again, more ferocious this time, and eyes him with defiance. He almost has half a mind to tell her to stand down, but she had already stated ‘ _You are no leader of mine_ ’ by the time she had arrived. 

She looks down, wrapping a clawed hand around the smaller one attached to her finger, and states, “I am not leaving. Not until I have confirmation that you will take him in. Please.” 

He wants to point out that by begging, she puts the power in his hands, but does not confer. Instead, he approaches her cautiously, until they are standing side by side. 

He peers into the contents of the blanket. 

Enormous, violet eyes peer right back. 

He’s almost taken aback by the curious gaze, but he holds his ground, the glittering irises tilting slightly as the child cocks its head. He’s surprised at the mass of dark hair on its head already, ( _“How old is this thing?” Tinok asks, squinting at it, as a teenager would. Virya smiles, playfully flicks him in the forehead and says, “He’s not a year yet, maybe half.” And the thing is half asleep in her arms, “What the quiznack is a year?” And she groans in mock annoyance---_ ) and is vaguely aware of the intense gaze it keeps trained on him. 

Faintly, he asks, “What...is its name?”

Her eyebrows raise at him in gentle surprise, before she turns back to the thing in her arms and her ears fold down against her head as she brushes her knuckles against a chubby cheek; she looks so sad, already heartbroken, but the smile on her face is filled with pride. 

“His Galran name is Akryva...but I want him to know his roots as well. He is _Keith_ on the Terran planet, and _Akira_ , after his father.” Virya says, quietly, and Kolivan notices how his Galran name is too foreign, nearly, too soft but sharp at the same time. It rolls uncomfortably in his mouth, tongue unable to form the syllables after speaking Galran most of his life, but ironically, his Terran name, _Keith_ , comes to him easier. 

The child is not an it. It is _he_ , he is _Keith_. 

Kolivan is broken from his stupor when he looks down, and notices that he is on the receiving end of a toothless, endearing smile. The child reaches a hand out, clearly eyeing one of the braids on his head, falling over his shoulder, but he leans away before it’s too late. 

Virya almost looks smug when he glances at her again.

Kolivan straightens and looks away, out the port window, and a beat of silence passes before he speaks again, “Virya,” he starts, staring her down, “We can not harbor a child here. The dangers are far greater than the protection he would receive. He is not--- _he is not even full Galra._ We are a brotherhood of the same species, we can not just accept halflings at the off chance that---”

Full, wholesome laughter reaches him, and his gaze flicks. 

The child--- _Keith_ \---is laughing, enormous, starry eyes pointed directly at him, and all Kolivan can do is stare. 

“He likes your voice,” Virya says, softly, cradling the child close to her face, nuzzling him with an affectionate nose as one of his clawless, chubby hands comes forward to engulf itself in her hair. Simultaneously, Keith reaches towards him, making a noise akin to want. 

Virya continues, “I know I am asking for more than you have to give, Kolivan. But, I believe he will be happier here than on the Terran plan---than on _Earth_. His species are not...understanding, not like his father. I have seen their wars, I have seen their hate against those who are different, and I have seen the abandonment of their own race. Keith...he would not survive there, he would not be happy there, Kolivan, I _know_.” She whispers, and he watches as her eyes miraculously fill with unshed tears, but do not spill. Her voice remains steady. 

She looks at him with a sad smile, “I am aware that my time in the brotherhood is over, after what I have done, but please, do not let my character affect the fate of my child. He deserves the chance that you will not second me. _He must survive._ He is so important, Kolivan, I know it.”

“...He should not exist.”

“No, he should not. But he does.” 

When Kolivan meets the gaze of Keith again, the stars are reflected brilliantly in the glossy orbs as he stares forward in curious wonder. 

_He should not be alive. But he is._

Straightening, Kolivan heaves a sigh, and immediately, Virya’s visage changes from weary to alert. She eyes him, but neither of them make a move to try and fill the heavy silence. Several beats pass like this, as Kolivan reflects the last several days Virya has been harbored here. 

_When the ancient ship touched down in the docking bay, weapons were raised, but the alarm was not necessary when the figure that emerges has been gone too long and the child against her chest heaves with sadness, the cries too quiet to be heard over the dying engine._

_When Virya reveals herself, Kolivan is unsurprised to find that she has aged well, with a relaxed visage but older eyes. He wants to tell her that she cannot be here, that she is not welcome, but even she seems to know that that notion is untrue._

_When she smiles, it’s all bared fangs._

_She says she needs a place to stay for awhile._

Kolivan idly runs a hand over the sheathed blade at his side, feels it hum with his own energy that only luxite can amplify in a way no other material can. Glancing down, he takes note of Virya’s belt. 

The sheath on Virya’s hip is empty. 

_And surely you know, that the resignation of your blade is your resignation as a Blade as well. It is a shame you are not being released with honor. Traitor does not suit you._

_You have done some terrible things, Virya. Hopefully your child will never know._

When Kolivan glances up, Virya is crying silently, tears finally spilling over. 

Keith touches a hand to her damp face, and Kolivan looks away. 

\---

_Marmora,_

_I left during the middle of the night. I know you wished to see me off but I did not want Keith awake during my departure. He is more aware than he seems. Besides, I feel it is easier this way._

_Keith will grow rapidly. It is more than likely due to his human DNA, they do not experience long lives. I expect his lifespan to be longer than that of a regular human, at least, but he will not be alive long by Galra standards. It is important that you are aware of this, and you will understand why later._

_You showed concern over his safety, but I think that the headquarters is the safest he can be._

_I do not think you understand the implications of him being a half galra-human hybrid._

_He is a medical breakthrough. I did not think he was to survive, but humans are more resilient than I gave them credit for. They are at the top of the food chain on Earth, and mixed with the predatory aspects of Galra, I believe Keith has the ability to be something great. However, that also means that if his existence is found, it is likely that he will become a target for experimentation or other tendencies. You know how the Druids (and otherwise) like to play._

_Keep him away from the Empire at all costs._

_You will find a box under the bed of where I slept. It holds many personal things of mine as well as his own belongings from his short stay on Earth. His father was...strange. I do not want Keith rejecting the human part of himself while being raised by Galra, either way. Please make sure that he understands that both parts of him are equally important._

_I understand that after my leave I am no longer welcome, under any circumstances, back into the brotherhood. I do not plan on ever returning, or trying to reconnect with Keith again. He deserves as normal of a childhood as possible. He does not need to know what I did. Try not to make me out as too evil, yeah?_

_I have my own business to attend to. It does not include any other Marmora members or the Empire. Even if I have been kicked out, I will keep my oath. No one will know about ou---your existence._

_I am sorry that my last contact with my brothers and sisters had to end this way. I didn’t ask for this._

_I am eternally in your debt. Thank you, for giving Keith the chance he deserves. He is so intelligent and curious. It would have been robbery of intellect to keep him sheltered for the rest of his life on that planet._

_He will make you proud. I am sure of it._

_Goodbye._

-V

 _PS. DO NOT let Tinok or Orso feed him barvosol like they were planning, the little shits. I WILL come back to skin them alive if they do. Most Galra cuisines are not very compatible with his stomach right now. Even Galran baby formula is a bad idea. Stick with the items I have brought from Earth, then slowly transition him to Galran food. Hopefully, once he has matured slightly, he will be able to eat Galran food normally._

_Get secure bedding. He rolls around a lot in his sleep._

_ALSO, he is a quiet crier, but things will escalate if you don’t take care of it. Quickly. He cries when he is hungry, also. Sing to him if you have to. PLEASE stick to the feeding schedule I have put in the box. It will help everyone out in the end._

_I do not know how he will react to quintessence. Not yet, at least. I advise you keep it away from him. Quintessence is an important part of Galran society, especially in the Marmora. I am simply not sure what effects it will have on him. I would wait until he is of earth age._

_His birthday on Earth was during the month of December, on the 27th, I believe, in their year of 2134. If I have calculated correctly, his birth falls in the fifth quadrant of the Yixin rotation of Gal. I’m not sure the exact day, I am surprised I was able to get that far. He is technically two in Galran “years”, because the rotation of Gal is almost four times faster around their star than on Earth. So he will age slower than Galra numbers compute._

_I love you, Keith. I am sorry. Know that when you awaken your blade, that is my essence, just as much as yours. Even if I am not present, I am there. I am so proud of you. I know you are destined for greater things. Kick ass._

_Take care of him, Marmora. Thank you._

Kolivan rereads the note, one, two, three times. Looks at the page where she did the math for his birthday, in order to see if someone else could configure a day. He looks at the photographs in the box ( _finds a picture of a man with a blurry purple claw smudged in the corner, smiling crookedly as the sun creates a halo around his head_ ), the Earth foods, rereads the note a fourth time, almost cracks a smile at the odd expletives she uses in her note ( _and has been using since she got here, she cusses more than ever now that her vocabulary has been expanded_ ), looks at toys and odd rectangular hollows with some kind of string in them, boxes and boxes and _boxes,_ of books ( _and notes the ones that are falling apart at their seams, having been opened so many times that the pages are crumbling, where her claws dug into a page to hold it, where something stains and---_ ), but at the bottom of the pile, lays a dagger. 

Her blade is wrapped, and Kolivan picks it up carefully. The symbol glows, almost, a soft mauve color through the rags, and he perks up in time to hear the tail end of Keith’s full laughter. 

He puts the blade aside, seals the box, and does not open it again.


	2. age 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thace returns, but his orbit is still incomplete. 
> 
>  
> 
> _"Do not retrieve."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys !! wow, can i just say i love you guys ?? i was NEVER expecting that kind of response, i am actually blown away. sure, ive written stories for other fandoms and stories for voltron, but i have never received such a positive reception. i almost want to cry,, i work so hard on my stories and it just makes me happy that you guys are genuinely invested in them ?? like wow ,, that's pretty hella ??? :')))  
> anyway: LOOK ITS MY DADDY I LOVE HIM ,, i would sell my soul to have thace even remotely breathe on me ,, also iTS MY SON !!! i love antok so much i could die  
> also that prologue was really short compared to what i write usually,, most of the chapters afterwards are gonna be pretty heckin long !! at least 3-5k ,, the angst chapters are gonna be way longer tho !!  
> anyway, im throwing some fluff at you write now with some mild angst ,, i love thulaz like fuck me up ?? also young ulaz ?? i hope his image is put on my grave  
> TW: MENTIONS OF BLOOD, and cussing bc tinok and orso are teenagers but its nothing too graphic lmao  
> i should also mention my updates are super sporadic ?? like they'll fluctuate from every couple of days to weeks between the next update and the next, but ill try my best to update at least every saturday or sunday ?? hopefully that works out with my schedule ,, i take a bunch of AP classes rn so im usually always busy ,, my AP world teacher can suck my ass tbh  
> songs i listened to on repeat to write this: danny phantom theme song trap remix, take it off - spanglish version by lil jon ,, divinity by porter robinson ,,, take it easy - jetta (matsubs remix) ,, and of course every song ever by woodkid ;)))  
> also, i had someone proofread this and they tore it apart pretty much so i tried my best to fix it ?? i hope its clear that in an italicized section, nonitalicized words are put there for word emphasis ?? and that whenever it is in italics its either a flashback or thought ??? idk i just hope this is easy to follow :((( they also said my writing is really choppy but thats what im going for ?? ugh idk :((( i guess ill see what you guys have to say  
> happy reading , i hope you guys enjoy !!! -aliv

Sometimes, Thace wonders what the base was like before a child was ever introduced. 

All of those times, he can’t imagine it. 

_Thace stares at the tiny_ , tiny, _thing in Hyvalra’s arms, and feels his eyebrows hike up. His mission had been a success, there were close to no problems, and now Thace was switching his outpost position with another Blade._

_He was not expecting to be introduced to a child upon his return._

_Hyvalra snorts in amusement at his expression, her grin sharp as the child stares back at Thace. There is an almost---_ unsettling _awareness in his gaze. It’s almost as if it looks through him rather than at him, and the notion almost makes Thace squirm._

_“Yeah, kind of creepy, isn’t it? You get used to it.” Hyvalra says, and her voice seems to draw the child’s attention away from Thace, because suddenly there’s a hand smacking against her cheek and she laughs._

_“What---”_

_“Virya abandoned him.” Thace’s head snaps up, eyes wide, and Hyvalra just looks...put out. “I can’t really say abandoned, but that’s what she essentially did. She didn’t wait for the confirmation that we would take him in before she stole one of our crafts and took off.” She says, and Thace recognizes a disappointment in her gaze._

_Thace almost wants to ask how_ , how _Virya could have possibly found any kind foothold to do something so last minute, when the Marmora hasn’t seen her in so long._

 _He supposes she has always had her ways._

_Hyvalra continues, walking forward to meet Thace halfway, and she smiles fondly. “His name’s Keith. His Galra name is hard to pronounce so we just call him his Terran name to make it easier on everyone else. Also, you weren’t supposed to meet him yet, but I was on cubsitting duty so I had to meet you with him._ Also, _welcome back.” She spouts rapidly, turning around, and Thace steps with her, meeting her pace._

_“How did Virya convince Kolivan this was a good idea?” Thace asks, looking at Keith from his nest of blankets in Hyvalra’s arms, the bright violet still a startling contrast against the pale skin and dark hair._

_Hyvalra laughs._

_“She didn’t, trust me. She tried to convince him for the several quintants she was here, but it never worked. She basically got everyone else to fall in love with Keith instead and took off.” Hyvalra replies, giving a snort as she adds, “Kolivan refuses to be in the same room as him.”_

_“And he didn’t try to cart him off to another planet? At all?” Thace asks, faintly, and he_ swears _that Keith gives him a smug look from the blankets, tiny lips tilted up in the corners and mirth in his eyes, as if to say_ ‘Like you could actually get rid of me that easily. Try again.’

 _Hyvalra shakes her head with a crooked smile, “Oh, he tried. Was planning to find a peaceful planet and drop him off with hopes that someone would find him. Surprisingly, there was a lot of opposition.” Hyvalra states, thumbing Keith’s cheek fondly; the latter makes a humming sound, leaning into the gentle touch._

_“I’m guessing you were one of the opposed.” Thace says dryly, and Hyvalra scoffs._

_“Of course I was. Who do you take me for?” She says, giving such a self-satisfied smile that Thace feels he has no choice but to return it._

_They continue down the corridors like this, towards the core of the headquarters, with Keith interrupting the silence every once and awhile. Once they near the interior, both Galra cross paths with subordinates, who salute accordingly and welcome Thace back, before scurrying along. This cycle continues until they are nearing the main control room. Hyvalra turns to Thace, clearly intent on saying something, before the radio at her hip cackles. Her hand whips down to grasp the circular device, and greets the crackling voice with a sharp greeting._

_“Hyvalra, sir.” She says, and Thace watches her face contort with a scowl as she is briefed on the situation._

_“You have got to be kidding me…” She mutters to herself, shaking her head with agitation. The device is reattached to her belt, before her eyes suddenly zero in on Thace and he tenses under such a steely gaze._

_Before he can configure what’s happening, he has his arms full with Keith, the blankets spilling over as Hyvalra shoves the child into his chest._

_Thace thinks it’s miraculous that he didn’t drop him._

_Hyvalra is scrambling down the hall, already removing some sort of tool from her belt as she goes; as she turns the corner, she peeks her head back and yells, “Just hold him for a few ticks! I can’t bring him with me, thanks, I owe you one!”_

_And then she’s gone._

_Thace blinks, his brain trying to catch up with the situation, before he looks down at the child_ \---Keith--- _in his arms._

_Keith blinks back up at him with a neutral expression._

_“Uh, well,” Thace starts, shifting Keith in his arms awkwardly, “it has definitely been awhile since I’ve held...a child…” Thace says, grimacing when Keith only stares at him._

_Moments pass in awkward silence._

_Suddenly, Keith squirms,_ hard, _nearly falling out of Thace’s hold. The latter scrambles to readjust his grip, taking Keith by his underarms and holding him up, so that they remain at each other’s eye level. Keith blinks at him, violet eyes staring him down. His gaze flickers down slightly._

 _Tiny hands reach forward, and fingers dig into the soft fur around his face. Thace stands ramrod straight, eyes searching the corridor for help, but is only met with Keith’s curious gaze as he continues to run his fingers through mauve fur. He relaxes, only slightly, when Keith’s fingers curl gently, looking awestruck._

_Expression softening, Thace allows a smile to slip, corners tilting up. Keith’s expression is...amusing, to say the least. Brow furrowed and eyes full of steel, Keith is only focused on the task at hand, patting the soft tufts with small palms._

_“No wonder everyone took to you so quickly,” Thace observes quietly, smile widening as Keith’s hands migrate up, pulling at his ears. Keith seems enraptured by the soft fur, and Thace simply watches as Keith’s visage constantly changes._ He’s expressive, _Thace thinks to himself,_ despite being so young. 

_Suddenly, Keith yanks at his fur_ hard, _and Thace pulls away from him with a half-hearted frown, trying not to smile bemusedly at the disappointed expression on Keith’s face, hands making grabbing motions as Thace holds him at arms-length._

 _“Ow.” Thace says, dryly, and Keith glances at him with as much mischievousness someone so young can muster, a smile causing one corner of his mouth to tilt up, revealing a sharp snaggletooth._

_Thace raises an eyebrow, sticking out his tongue._

_Keith, with some minor difficulty, copies him._

_Thace can’t help the snicker that escapes him, Keith following with his own, quiet laughter. Patting Thace’s nose with an open palm, Keith stares at him with bright eyes, and Thace swears he can pick out every single fleck of color in his eyes._

_He supposes it makes sense to be so enraptured by the gaze, when Keith’s eyes so easily reflect the stars in his dark irises._

The encounter had been only quintants ago, and it doesn’t take long for Keith to glue himself to Thace’s side, including through the debriefing he received from Kolivan yesterday. 

Kolivan had looked everywhere but at Keith in Thace’s arms. Thace couldn’t help but grimace every time Kolivan accidentally made eye contact with Keith, inhaling like it pained him, before continuing. 

Even Keith seems to sense that Kolivan would rather be anywhere but in the same room with him, completely pliant in Thace’s arms when he’s usually ready to hop out of them at any moment, as if sensing the... _regret_ that Kolivan gives off. 

It wasn’t fun, to say the least. 

Now, however, Thace seems to have become some sort of official... _cubsitter_ , and while the notion overall isn’t terrible, it seems to have just as many cons as pros. 

For one, Keith has absolutely _attached himself_ to Thace like an extra limb. It’s endearing, as any child is, but when Thace has to struggle just to walk down a hallway, it isn’t very appealing. Plus, being on the receiving end of jokes? Awesome. He has half a mind to pull rank on Tinok whenever the latter passes him and snickers, Keith glued to his leg all the while. 

Keith also seems to think that going to Thace means “instant protection.” Keith causes enough accidents to bring down Zarkon’s warship himself, then comes crawling to Thace when the others come hunting him down. He’s already had enough incidents with Orso, covered in soot and scowling as if she would be willing to throw a wrench at Thace’s head if it means she gets to chew Keith out. (Even if he can’t understand her.)

And the one thing that no one can seem to stand--- _the crying_. Keith can’t seem to go throughout the night anymore without being checked on at least once, and it usually ends with Thace giving up and grabbing Keith by the collar of his shirt, hiking him up into his arms until he quiets down, ( _“Oh, he_ used _to be quiet,” Orso grumbles, hands clapped over her ears to ward off the wails, “but then you came back and ruined everything. Good job.”_ ) or taking him to his room, where they curl up together. 

Spoiled, the child is spoiled. 

Still, Thace can’t help but _grin_ when the others complain about him being Keith’s favorite. 

“I still can’t believe this,” Aviyeira starts sourly, shoves something into a cabinet to look elsewhere, gives up there too and starts looking in drawers, “you’re his favorite after what, five _quintants?_ I’ve been here for five _rellums_ , honestly, what the _fuck_.” She gripes, muttering to herself as she crouches, tail swerving with agitation, so much so that Thace has to dodge a couple of times to avoid being thwacked by the appendage. He doesn’t comment on the strange curse.

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow at her figure, looking like an ancient, feral Galra in her position, all narrowed eyes and silent scowl. 

She slams another drawer closed with a grunt and stands, taking her hands and swiping it through her scalp, loosening several strands of hair from the messy hold of her short braid. She looks like she would rather be anywhere but here, and Thace just gives her a gentle, patient smile that has her immediately unwinding. 

“I would say be a little quieter, but if Keith still hasn’t woken up with all of that noise, make some more, I guess.” 

Aviyeira snorts, cocking her head at him, eyes rolling so far back he wouldn’t be surprised if she saw her own brain, “Ha, ha, Commander Thace.” She says, before sighing and starting somewhere else in the small kitchen, “I mean, c’ _mon_ , I feed the cub all of his meals and you hold him maybe three times and he’s attached to your leg like he’s in orbit? If I hold him he _cries_.” She whines, and seems to finally find what she’s looking for. 

She’s holding some kind of plastic container of--- _mush_ , and she laughs openly at his mildly disgusted expression, tearing the top off of the plastic container before dumping it all into a bowl. 

It goes willingly, taking the shape of the container like water, and Thace winces. He watches as Aviyeira scrapes Galran baby food into the container as well, before taking a utensil, beginning to idly stir the concoction. 

With a hum, she glances over at Keith in Thace’s arms, and her brow relaxes and a tiny quirk at the corner of her mouth appears, “I wish I could stay mad at him, but he’s too cute.” She sighs, leaning up against the counter as Thace only nods in agreement. 

The only reason Keith is as spoiled as he is can certainly be blamed on the fact that no one can resist the child’s expression, ( _except maybe Kolivan_ ) all endearing, half-toothless grins and chubby hands and arms. Right now, Keith’s eyes are closed, thick lashes creating shadows over chubby cheeks, arms curled into his chest as he breathes evenly against Thace. Cozy and quiet, inky black hair wisps up into cowlicks that brush against Thace’s neck, and his cheeks are slightly flushed from the proximity of body heat. 

Yeah. It’s a little hard to resist. 

Aviyeira leans up against the counter, still stirring the contents she dumped inside, but seems to be studying Thace now, rather than Keith. Her eyes have a certain--- _gentleness to them_ , and Thace frowns at her. 

“...What is it?”

“Have you...have you heard from Ulaz?” She asks, softly, hesitant, and Thace pretends he doesn’t see the way her eyes soften, like melting glass, before he can look away. 

“No.”

“When was the last time you did hear from him?” 

“It was...it was a long time ago, Aviyeira. I don’t know.” 

She frowns at him, but doesn’t push the issue, and they sit in silence for several ticks. 

Something dark and ugly curls in Thace’s gut, trying to crawl its way up and infect his heart, tell him _he’s dead and you’re never going to see him again, so why pretend?_ but he _tries_ , tries to quell the sickness with his hope. With his promise. 

Sometimes, he doesn’t think it’s enough. 

_Ulaz bumps his shoulder into Thace's, grinning like a lunatic, lopsided but sharp in every regard, and sometimes Thace wonders what he did to deserve this._

_And Ulaz will press a hand to the back of his neck, pull their foreheads together, pale yellow meeting bright lantern, as Thace looks away. Can’t look at him, because he_ can’t---

_“Hey. Look at me,” Ulaz whispers, and Thace complies, but Ulaz’s expression crumbles, and he swipes a sharp thumb over Thace’s cheek. Gentle. Serene._

_Thace doesn’t even realize he’s crying._

_Ulaz takes his face into both hands, cupping his expression like star dust, precious and sad, and smiles languidly. Not sharp, not anything, really. Just smiles like Thace is his universe, like Thace is his_ everything. _Sometimes, Thace is scared of that expression, but he falls into it every single time, because he knows Ulaz will be there to catch him._

_“We’ll come back to each other. We always do. Just---”_

“...ace?” 

It is the worst way to be brought back to reality, really, and he blinks slowly. Aviyeira has a hand on his upper arm, and he almost wants to shrug it off, but there is _understanding and desperation and guilt_ in her eyes, and he realizes, with a terrible burn in his gut, that she’s missing someone, too. 

“I’m...I’m fine,” he says, faintly, and Aviyeira’s gaze breaks with disappointment, hand slipping from his shoulder as she turns away, and he can almost see the way hurt drips off of her shoulders, heavy and black, into the floor. 

“Of course,” she says, but there is no animosity or reluctance in her voice, only gentle acceptance, quiet and languid in the air, held aloft with silence. 

“I’m going to go lay down.” Thace decides, still not all there, feeling out of body as he speaks, mind on a certain kind of autopilot he can’t explain. 

“Here,” she says, putting down whatever she happened to be holding at that moment, before crossing the short strides to him and holding her arms out, “I’ll take him. He shouldn’t wake.” 

Thace nods, automatically gives her the bundle in his arms, the distraction he’s been keeping close in order to dodge these thoughts, ugly and corruptive, with gentle, pure Keith. 

Aviyeira tucks Keith to her chest, and she searches Thace’s gaze. She gives the barest of nods to herself, seemingly, before reaching out. Her hand never makes contact with him, only hovers above his arm like she’s afraid she will be shocked, “Get some rest. You need it.” _It won’t help to dwell. Talk to someone._

“Of course.” _I’ll try._

She nods again, and he exits the kitchen, walking in even strides to his own room. 

Keith, as predicted, does not wake. 

\---

“I still don’t know what half of this shit is,” Tinok snorts, dumping the Earth provisions onto the counter like rocks. Huffing, strands of hair fall into his eye, ear flicking before settling like a radio dish. 

“Wow, what a surprise, since this is literally the first time you’ve been in here, dumbass.” Orso grumbles, shoving him with her shoulder. 

“Says the one who _still burns barvosol_.” 

“Shut _up_ , both of you.” Hyvalra snaps, and the scene that greets Thace is not one he was expecting. 

Between two teenagers and a frazzled adult, he supposes there could be worse things he could’ve walked in on. 

All eyes swerve to look at him when he enters, ranging from tired to mirthful, and he supposes that the expressions would be alarming if not for the fact that something is dripping off of Orso’s bangs into her eyes, Tinok’s shirt has obviously been clawed across both shoulders, and Hyvalra looks murderous, but the violent image is _literally_ smudged with the green goop running down the side of her face, her chest a mess of colors. 

The walls look like they were decorated with the same haphazard stains.

Thace has to strangle down a laugh, and the scowl on Hyvalra’s face deepens. 

Both Tinok and Orso salute sloppily, seeming to only just now realize who’s at the door. They push and prod at each other all the while, and Thace wonders, briefly, why they’re all covered in food. 

He doesn’t even have to ask before Hyvalra starts explaining. 

“We have to manually take some of the food Virya gave us and turn it to mush, don’t ask.” Hyvalra says, turning back to the task at hand, and Thace warily approaches the counter to see several foods he has never had the pleasure of knowing. 

One catches his eye, bright yellow and elongated, curved oddly throughout the body but ending in a rough point at the top. The yellow is patched with brown in some places, and Thace would think it looks appealing if not for the fact that when Hyvalra opens it, she peels back the opening like a skin. 

He is vaguely disgusted. 

“So...uh, the food just miraculously got on the wall, too?” He asks, and Hyvalra almost looks like she could murder when she glances at Orso and Tinok. 

They both give sheepish, but not sorry, grins. 

Suddenly, they’re met with a gruff cough at the door, and everyone swivels towards the noise. Even Tinok, with his superior hearing, looks vaguely surprised that someone was able to sneak up on them. 

More surprisingly is that it’s _Antok_. 

Thace hasn’t seen the larger Galra since he arrived, and Antok is already rare to find as it is. Looking uncomfortable, Thace only realizes now that Antok has Keith sitting in one of his enormous palms, claws reminiscent of prison bars, towering far over Keith’s head. 

The latter doesn’t look the least perturbed, content with sitting in the cozy warmth, languidly gazing at all of them through the much taller fingers.

“He was crawling around in the hallways.” Antok mutters as way of explanation, voice younger without the distortion of his mask, blunt as ever, the officer looking more and more put off as Keith continues to sit pliant in his hand. 

Walking forward, Thace gives a smile when Keith perks up upon seeing him, sitting forward to stare at him, but making no other moves to try and escape Antok’s grasp. 

Antok lowers his hand slightly, making Keith visible without the row of fingers now, and Thace raises his hands, holding out his arms to see if Keith would come to him willingly. 

Keith makes no move to try and reach for Thace. 

Thace doesn’t know whether to feel jealous or oddly relieved. 

Antok’s eyes seem to rove around the room, scarred eyebrow hiking higher and higher at the state of the kitchen, but he doesn’t comment. That’s how Antok is, Thace remembers. Doesn’t speak unless he has to; he likes the language of war and action better than any kind of verbal syllable. 

Thace takes notice of Antok’s tail, twitching and brushing the floor continuously, and Thace decides that Antok would rather be in any other situation than this. 

_Awkward._

_That’s what Thace thinks, upon meeting Antok. Young, the youngest officer they’ve ever taken in, Antok looks older than he should be. Exhausted, older eyes, a gentle yellow set in a hard visage, contradictory in every way. Sixteen is too young, Thace wants to say, but the way Antok holds himself says otherwise._

_And then Thace sees him fight._

_Antok hacks down people without the struggle the other officers face. Even under the mask, Thace can tell his jaw is set and that his eyes are only set on one goal: the end of the mission. He sprays blood like water, practically drowns in it, and Thace realizes that Antok was raised in a war colony. The what-ifs don’t matter, the casualties don’t matter, because Antok understands war better than any officer, commander, or general. He knows the stakes. He doesn’t take chances._

_Antok would rather_ die _than let his loyalty ever waver._

_And that makes Thace incredibly sad._

Even now, Antok hasn’t changed much. He’s still just as awkward as before, but now he is considered an adult; it doesn’t seem to matter that he was always one anyway. He would still hack off several heads if it means his squadron gets through; Gods, Thace has seen him rip out throats with his bare hands for his superiors. 

Thace tries to pretend that Antok is not as much of a weapon as they use him as. A _child_. He is still a child. 

“Come, Keith,” Thace croons, and _finally_ , Keith raises his arms in understanding. Thace scoops him up, makes a purring noise deep in his throat, a comforting lilt that has Keith easily settling in.

Antok looks like a physical weight has been lifted off his shoulders, even though Keith could have not weighed more than a few poilins to him. Thace smiles at him, hoping he conveys a disarming expression, but Antok only looks vaguely unimpressed. 

What did Orso call it? _Resting bitch face?_

Backing out of the threshold of the door, Antok gives a pristine, but tired salute from the hallway, a, “Sir,” the only thing he leaves hanging in the air, before he turns on his heel and stalks down the hallway. 

Thace watches him go. 

“Honestly, what a weirdo,” He hears Tinok grouch, and Hyvalra hisses at him in disapproval. 

“Would it kill you to say something nice?” 

“Yes.” 

Thace turns to find that Hyvalra has scraped her nails across the sensitive area behind Tinok’s ears; not enough to draw blood, but enough to hurt. Thace almost winces in sympathy as Tinok rubs the area with disdain, shooting a glower at Hyvalra. Orso looks pretty happy about the predicament. 

Thace exits the kitchen and Keith burbles. 

\---

News from Ulaz’s division doesn’t come for several klintents, and even if the fact that he’s still alive is good enough news, Thace finds his stomach bottoming out at the words he has to relay. 

_“The mission has been compromised. We’re currently in holding. Code 256. Do not retrieve.”_

Rewind.

Replay. 

_“Do not retrieve.”_

Rewind.

Replay. 

_“Do not retrieve.”_

Rewin---

\---

 _Code 256: Ship has been compromised and all occupants are in immediate danger. Ship has either been docked or boarded by enemy patrol. Survivor count unsure. Fighter jets not in use. Ambush. Holding imminent. Immediate assistance needed._

_“Do not retrieve.”_

Thace feels like he's been waiting for too long, but knows, with a twist in his gut, there's nothing he can do.

\---

Thace doesn’t sleep. He can’t, and Keith seems to sense so, every night, because his fingers curl into the fringe at Thace’s throat and he makes distressed noises that only a baby can accomplish. It grounds him, slightly, from the screaming and burning and memories, of watching his world get impaled, what feels like a million years ago, and watching the shocking, shiny purple bathe the floor like a water bath. 

Thace holds the child closer, watches how Keith stares into his lantern eyes, enraptured by the glow. Thace thinks, sometimes, that Keith’s eyes glow just as brightly in the dark, even with the absence of stars. 

He does not think about the recorder he has on hand, and what words replay in his mind, a demented mantra, a chorus singing in his night terrors. 

They can’t retrieve, because there’s nothing to save. 

\---

_“Five of twelve have survived. Retreating area, now. Rerouting to base. Will be approaching within two quintants. Information stored. Survivors alive, but injured. Gravely.”_

And to hear his voice again, Thace watches his world rebuild itself, because he’s coming home. 

_He’s coming home._

\---

 _“---promise me you’ll come back. You’ll come back to_ me. _Safe, Thace. Please.”_

_“Okay.”_

_And they fall out of each other’s orbit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man i just love some good thulaz angst :)) *laughs nervously as i shove more angst under my bed*  
> so some things i think i should address:  
> 1) thace, kolivan, ulaz, hyvalra and aviyeira are all in their early twenties. thace is twenty four (in earth years), kolivan is twenty five, ulaz is twenty five, hyvalra is twenty three, and aviyeira is twenty one  
> 2) i also just introduced my self insert haha guess which one it is bc its the terrible one :))))  
> 3) quintants are days, rellums are months, and klintents are weeks. i literally stared at my keyboard trying to come up with words for like 3000000 years for the last two and then i pulled them out of my ass  
> 4) hyvalra is essentially a care taker and an engineer ,, she has some medical training which is why she was basically dignified with cubsitting keith there lmao  
> 5) thace returned from a really long mission ,, he was gone for about 4 years ?? but yeah he was really young when he and ulaz had to go on separate missions :((( owell he'll get to see his boy soon and then they can cuddle NUTS  
> 6) the fact that keith is part galra and part human is affecting his mental growth quite a lot. i imagine the galra coming out of whatever birth thing they come out of kicking and ready to go ,, and while human babies are not really aware they react to things that they see pretty easily, they store whats happy and whats sad and whats angry in their minds figure out which expression to use to get what they want ,, keith has built on that to have a deeper understanding of things and the world around him ,, hes like scarily aware in a way that he shouldnt be ,, thanks alien genes !! also some of you are probs like "shouldnt he be talking or something ?? a little bit ??" just you wait ;)))  
> 7) tinok and orso are cussing like terran sailors bc they picked it up from virya while she was staying ,, they just love expanding their expletive vocabulary !!! the others eventually pick it up a little bit too lmao  
> 8) barvosol is basically like an alcohol if given in large quantities, but otherwise its just a harmless juice !! you have to boil it tho to get the alcoholic shit out lmao  
> 9) poilins are basically like grapes !!!  
> 10) you guys are probably like "the fuck is up with antok" but i thought it would be a good idea to give him a younger appearance to further bulk up his backstory (which will be revealed later) right now antok is eighteen (earth years)(he's a little older in galra years) (tinok and orso are both sixteen) and he's one of the youngest officers they have. he grows up around war bc of his heritage in a colony planet. also, he's so fucking awkward its hilarious i love my son. i have an idea for what he looks like under his mask ,, also i know we literally heard him speak like two lines in canon but gOSH i just could go on and on about him and what i have planned but mAN that would spoil so much; also tinok calls him a weirdo bc hes an asshole but also bc antok is kinda hard to find ?? a lot ?? like he just randomly appears sometimes and for such a big guy its a little scary ?? and hes just not ,, like the others ,, gosh ill explain it later i swear  
> 11) im still laughing at thace being like "resting bitch face ??"  
> 12) what hyvalra did to tinok, the whole scratching him thing,, is the equivalent of cuffing him on the back of the head. being scratched in a sensitive area hURTS  
> 13) sorry that i havent really included many human things yet ?? keith will have to grow up a little bit before im able to get to all of the human vs. galra culture shenanigans and stuff :(( oh but i do have a chap planned for that *cackles*  
> 14) thace literally opened a code book to look up the code bc hes that freaked out :(( poor daddy  
> 15) THULAZ THULAZ THULAZ !!!! YOUNG !!! THULAZ !!! STEP ON ME !!!!!  
> well thats about it !! some of you have asked me about social media and so heres all of my shit but idk why youd ever want to actually follow me:  
> instagram (most used): soopproductions (personal, im on here the most) ,, thegalraempire (purely my voltron account that i share with my wife) ,, thedadsofmarmora (whenever i get around to making it,, itll be used for updates on this story and for my art)  
> tumblr: thegalraaempiree (im rarely on here since i made it like a week ago lmao)  
> snapchat: loldontcarebye (personal use but its fun and im hilarious)  
> also, i will ALWAYS try to reply to every single comment i receive on here ,, it means so much that you guys actually take the time to type something up for me it makes me so happy :')))  
> im super tired i wrote this whole chap in one sitting goodbye i am dead  
> questions ,, comments ,, concerns ?? dont be afraid to hit me up !!!  
> thank you guys so much for reading !! dont be afraid to talk to me i love friends !!! :))) -aliv


	3. age 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulaz stares at Keith, and he's pretty sure that the little shit knows exactly what he's doing. 
> 
>  
> 
> _He loses himself in two realities whenever Thace speaks._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i am so sorry that this took so long to update i have been struggling with motivation and homework im going to die  
> on another note, this was supposed to be a cute/angst/cute chapter, but instead it turned into an /angst/angst/cute chapter and im sorry ?? i just cant control myself ,, literally everything i write comes out of my ass what a predicament :))  
> TW: mentions of blood and ptsd (through sleep paralysis and some shitty memory shenanigans) ,, but have baby keith to make up for it :)))  
> thanks so much you guys for reading !! :)))

Ulaz runs a clawed finger over the exposed fur on Thace’s neck. 

Thace does not look amused. 

“Stop that,” Thace says without any real bite, swatting Ulaz’s hand away, “I’m trying to work.” 

“You’ve been working long enough to run this base by yourself, Thace,” Ulaz comments, kicking a leg into Thace’s lap, knocking a log book aside; he watches it fall into a sad heap on the floor, “take a break, why don’t you?” He asks, cocking his head to the right. Locks of hair fall over his shoulder and into his eyes, escaping the simple knot on his head; with an annoyed grunt, he blows them away.

“You need a haircut.” 

“You need a break.” Ulaz responds without skipping a beat. 

Thace slams the tablet he’s holding onto the cushion beside him, and Ulaz has to resist letting his lips quirk up in mirth. The image looks rather silly, after all, with Thace wearing his underclothes and a pair of glasses, all piled up on the purple plush like he’s guarding some kind of fort. 

Ulaz prods his thigh with his foot, and Thace shoves the appendage away, only for it to reappear moments later. 

Thace narrows his eyes at him. 

Ulaz grins innocently, sharp teeth bared for his lover to see. 

It feels vaguely like déjà vu. 

_“Ulaz, stop that.” Thace says, shoving the face at his shoulder away. Ulaz falls back onto the bed with a sputter, like a dying engine._

_“You’ve been doing schoolwork for_ vargas, _Thace. You’re going to die before we ever get out of here.” Ulaz comments, kicking a foot up to sit on Thace’s back, running his heel up and down the uniform to see how many wrinkles he can work into it before Thace reprimands him._

_“At least I’ll die with priorities.”_

_“Oh,_ please,” _Ulaz scoffs, and Thace just gives him a sharp smile, like he knows something Ulaz doesn’t._

_Ulaz returns the look with a rude gesture._

_Thace’s laugh, young and vibrant and_ free, _stays with him, locked in his memories, because it is something precious. It is a time when Thace’s eyes are not tired, constantly looking weighed down with the bitter truth of something they were never supposed to know. He’s happy. They both are._

 _And it was all going to change._

A hand is touching his face when Ulaz blinks back to reality. Thace is leaned over him with a worried frown, and Ulaz has the urge to take his thumb and smooth the edges of the concerned lines that tilt his lips down. 

“There you are,” Thace comments, hushed, and Ulaz just gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile. 

“Sorry, was just remembering some things,” he says, just as quietly, laying a hand against Thace’s own. They stare at each other for a few moments, captivated by each other’s gaze, and sometimes Ulaz still can’t believe it’s only been a year since he’s been back. 

_He can’t believe he didn’t have his everything with him that entire time._

“Like what?” Thace asks, and Ulaz can’t help but trace the plains of his face, map every curve and quiet slope, locking them into memory all over again. It makes adoration swell in his chest, and he squeezes the hand against his face as he grins crookedly. 

“Like you.” 

Thace rolls his eyes, but there’s no annoyance there; Ulaz can see the gentle tilt of his lips that he’s trying to hide. He can’t get rid of the stupidly happy feeling that burns in his chest, and he’s sure the smile that’s splitting his face is on the borderline of looking ridiculous. 

Thace can just do that to him, he supposes. 

So, with childish vigor, he wraps both his arms around Thace’s neck and _pulls_. Thace goes down with a yelp, catching himself on Ulaz’s chest, but the latter doesn’t give him a chance to protest before their lips are crashing together like it’s the first time all over again. 

And Thace melts in his arms, relaxing into the touch languidly as he cups Ulaz’s face with both hands, tilting for a better angle. He can feel Thace attempting to soften the kiss, _gentle it_ , and he lets him, smoothing down the rough edges with patient hands. 

When they part, Ulaz is almost disappointed. 

Thace presses their foreheads together, still cupping his face, and Ulaz almost thinks that his heart unravels and rests in Thace’s palms, like this. _Always like this_. And then---

Something slaps his foot and they both jolt. 

Keith stands at the foot of the couch, tiny hand resting on Ulaz’s ankle, grasping it weakly between small fingers, eyes narrowed marginally. 

The little shit _is_ smiling, though. 

Ulaz whines when Thace sits up and away from him, focus completely and totally on the toddler at the foot of the bed. This? _This is not fair_. How is he supposed to compete with a cub when said child clearly has Thace wrapped around their little finger, _honestly._

Thace smiles like Keith scattered the planets throughout the universe himself, bending forward and reaching his arms out. Keith easily shifts into the embrace, and is pulled onto the couch to sit _right on Thace’s lap. Are you kidding me._

He will defend it until the day he dies: Keith knows _exactly_ what he’s doing. 

He gives a half smile at Ulaz and the latter just sticks his tongue out, unable to really stay mad, lips curling up when Thace nuzzles Keith’s ridiculous black mane. 

_“What_ is _that,” Ulaz says, staring at the bundle in Thace’s arms. Said bundle peeks its little head up, and they have a staring contest for all of three ticks before it ducks its head back down, against the junction between Thace’s shoulder and neck._

 _Thace gives a knowing smile and says, “This is Keith. Keith, this is Ulaz.” He pats the toddler on the back, nuzzles the inky locks on the child’s head and Ulaz stares._

_The only thing that Ulaz can think is “soft.” The child looks soft in a way that fur nor smooth scales could ever hope to accomplish. Soft eyes and soft hair and soft skin and Thace is talking to it in a soft voice and Ulaz doesn’t know what to think other than it’s ironic that Keith’s caretakers are emotionally constipated awkward generals and combatants forced to take care of another life form when they barely know how to take care of themselves._

_It’s ironic enough that he had started laughing, and Thace had thrown him a strange look, but all he does is come forward to wrap him into an embrace---Keith included._

_Their orbits returned in full force, and Thace whispers wetly, “I missed you---” and Ulaz just squeezes him tighter, because he was never good with words, not really._

_But Thace always understood anyway._

Ulaz smiles to himself, because Thace has Keith wrapped in his arms, the image of it all too domestic and out-of-place in a way he would never be able to explain---never thought he’d _see._

He wants to get used to this. 

_“This is war. People here don’t make it out with a conscience intact. They aren’t made for war, no one ever is, but they’re still_ sculpted _for it. Remember that when you shove a knife in your brethren’s throat, it makes it easier to think of it as a game.”_

_“...Is that all it is to you?...A game?”_

_“We’re all pawns, aren’t we? It’s an ugly game, after all. It diseases us.”_

_“How would you know?”_

_“You have the eyes of a killer. So do I. Everyone here does, and yet here we are. We’re all diseased. You hate the game but you still play it, right? That’s all it is.”_

Ulaz stares at Keith in Thace’s arms. 

_“Let’s just be glad we weren’t raised to be killers, right? We aren’t monsters. Just pawns.”_

An familiar sense of trepidation comes, and he pretends he can’t see the way Keith’s eyes slide over to him, bright and beautiful and unblemished, wary and aware. 

_If we aren’t considered monsters, then what does that mean for_ him? 

\---

When Ulaz wakes up, the first thing he notices is that something is clearly _wrong_. 

He’s facing the wall, the covers somewhere at the foot of the bed. He can feel Keith at his back, clutching onto his shirt with small strength, but Ulaz can tell he’s asleep because his breathing is even and shallow. 

He rolls over, that odd sense of _vice_ and _fault_ heavy in the air, his body on autopilot while his mind tries to catch up, instincts acting on their own, an urgency he can’t comprehend or explain. 

He startles when he meets lantern eyes in the darkness. 

_“Whoa,” Ulaz says without thinking, and Thace stares at him, the glow of his eyes like yellow beacons in the dark. It’s entrancing and ethereal, gently blinding in a way, because it’s the only thing he can focus on, and Thace looks guilty for some reason, turning those orbs away to look elsewhere._

_“Sorry,” Thace mutters, and Ulaz wants to ask him how much quintessence he downs in order to make his eyes that pronounced, but he knows that’s a personal question._

_“What for?” He asks instead, if only to make Thace look at him, turn those eyes back to his attention; he smiles when the glow permeates the inky black, slanted slightly, two diamonds in a cascadence of suffocating dark. And Ulaz grins at him, notices the shadows that are created over Thace’s cheekbones, oddly thrown in a way that reminds him a deity._

_“I think it’s pretty cool,” Ulaz continues with a lopsided smile, restricting from reaching out and taking Thace’s head in his hands so he’ll keep his gaze trained on him. The yellow lantern glow turns the fur around his eyes grey, making the blush that much more prominent when he looks away._

_“Thanks.” He mutters, and Ulaz bumps his shoulder into Thace’s in the dark._

_They sit like that, staring out the bay window, the darkness disturbed by pinpoint stars, as they wait for the lights to turn back on._

_“Thace?”_ Ulaz whispers into the dark, feels that pit of anxiety spike when he doesn’t receive an answer. Thace doesn’t even react. 

He studies the still figure in the dark, notes that the gaze Thace wears isn’t all there. He stares, unblinking, at the wall. Ulaz notes that he’s curled towards him, his hands clutching the sheets like his life depends on it, trying to ground himself.

Ulaz can recognize it for what it is. 

He shifts, groggy mind still trying to catch up as he escapes the last tendrils of sleep, and reaches forward. He doesn’t touch Thace, _not yet_ , but he shifts as close as he can without waking Keith, wracking his memories for what to do. 

And so, he starts talking. 

“Thace,” he says, gentle but enormously loud in the quiet, as he shifts a hand to hover near the back of Thace’s neck. “Thace,” he starts again, lowering his voice slightly, “you’re safe. You’re with me, and Keith, remember? You aren’t back there, we escaped the compound. We both got promoted afterwards, and Kolivan told us to never do something that stupid again. He isn’t coming back. He isn’t, _I promise. You have to breathe_.” Ulaz advises gently, and Thace shudders as he drags in a ragged breath. 

“ _Good_ , you’re so doing so good,” Ulaz whispers, only now gripping the thick fur on the back of Thace’s neck, rubbing a thumb across the base of his skull as he continues, “but you still need to breathe. Just do what I do, okay? I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” Ulaz assures, and starts breathing, loudly and slowly but deeply, listening as Thace attempts to copy him. 

This continues for several ticks.

Thace’s breaths get deeper eventually, finally start to putter out in exhaustion, but Ulaz still waits. And it’s like watching steel melt, as Thace finally begins to untense, finally regains some semblance of control, uncoiling himself as his muscles loosen and he limply drags a hand to rest on Ulaz’s upper arm, and _finally_ catches his breath. 

It’s so quiet Ulaz nearly misses it, the way Thace breathlessly says, “ _Sorry._ ” 

“ _Don’t_ ,” he hisses, sharply, and Ulaz feels the way Thace tenses under his hand, before he shakes his head and whispers brokenly, “ _don’t_. Don’t say that.” And---

 _He remembers, dragging Thace out of the wreckage of shrapnel, violet spilled and burned into his eyes, staining the grass such an odd color as he coughs in his arms. All that matters is that Thace is alive. That’s it._

_He’s bleeding out, he knows, can feel Thace desperately trying to keep the remains of his life inside of him, but mauve still cascades down his sides and pools around him like a lake._

_“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Thace keeps repeating, over and over and_ over, _and it’s almost too much for Ulaz to handle, because Thace is apologizing for something that isn’t his fault. Ulaz_ knows _what happened to him_. Knows _what Thace isn’t willing to tell anyone else. What he wasn’t_ going _to tell anyone else._

 _He knows._

“Stop, _don’t say that,” Ulaz hisses, but blood spills out of the corner of his mouth, adding to the pool around him, and Thace just looks so heartbroken, face damp with tears, that Ulaz can’t do it. He should be the one saying sorry, not Thace_. Not Thace. _It’s his fault, after all, for not getting here on time. For not being here, for not---_

“Okay.” Thace says in the dark, and Ulaz feels like he’s dissociated with his body in the worst kind of way. Thace is looking at him strangely, and only now does Ulaz feel the hand on his face, attempting to ground him and help his thoughts rearrange themselves. 

Ulaz nods, and they both sit in the deafening silence and stare at each other. 

Keith breathes between them, undisturbed. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Thace says in the darkness after several ticks, and Ulaz can still hear the apology tucked within the syllables. He sounds exhausted, and Ulaz just shakes his head. 

“It doesn’t matter, I would have woken up anyway.” Ulaz says, which is true. He would have eventually sensed that something was amiss in the room, after all. Thace frowns, but doesn’t say anything afterwards. 

His breaths are still stuttered, and Ulaz can feel him shaking, the hand on his face trembling marginally, and he feels incredibly crushed all of a sudden, like he’s drowning in air. 

“How bad...do they usually get this bad?” 

Thace glances at him, and Ulaz can feel the way he flinches at the gentle bluntness. 

“I---no. This was the first one in a while. I don’t know---” Ulaz tightens his clutch on Thace’s fur slightly, a comforting gesture; _it’s okay. Thank you for telling me that much._

“It’s okay.” Ulaz voices his thoughts out loud, and Thace just stares at him, and Ulaz realizes he’s waiting for him to continue, to add that ‘ _but maybe_ ,’ clip it to the sentence like a destructive afterthought. 

He doesn’t. 

The glow of Thace’s eyes permeate the darkness, and Ulaz feels just a little calmer. 

“Thank you,” Thace whispers, before adding, “I know it’s hard, sometimes.” 

Ulaz just quirks a smile, thoughts finally calming down enough to content himself with listening to Thace breathe. Ulaz can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not, but it grounds him. 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Thace scoffs, but there is still an edge of shakiness there, and Ulaz smiles, but he isn’t sure if he really means it. 

The silence is once again deafening, but they feel just a little bit safer in the dark. 

\---

“Say, ‘ _Ulaz_.’” 

Keith just looks at him. 

Ulaz raises an eyebrow in challenge and tries again, “ _Ulaz_.” 

Keith’s lips quirk up, lopsided in a smile that could be considered sly, and Ulaz gives him a suspicious look. 

“ _Ulaz_.” 

“‘ _Yaz_.”

“You know what? I’ll take it.” Ulaz replies, ruffling the hair on Keith’s head, something he knows the toddler hates, “But I know you can talk more than that. You’re a strange cub, you know that? Even Galra children would be...saying a little more by now.” Ulaz contemplates to himself, and Keith makes a half-shrug motion before he turns away from him. 

It’s oddly concerning how much the toddler _understands_. Even Hyvalra admits that Galra children aren’t quite as aware, not quite as on the same level of development as Keith. She had wondered if it had to do with his mixed DNA, but she said she would need some blood samples before she could make any real conclusions. 

Kolivan said no, predictably. 

Even with the fact that Keith seems more advanced than normal, Hyvalra admits that it’s strange that Keith won’t talk. Baby babble is expected, but Keith is so _silent_ and _quiet_. She had confided in Ulaz only quintants ago, with the comment that his DNA may also be causing him problems, something they probably wouldn’t catch until Keith was older. 

He wants to worry, really, but for some reason he feels like it’s not necessary. 

At least that one particular problem doesn’t seem to impede on his other habits. 

Keith certainly toddles like a normal cub, follows everyone around the best he can on chubby, wobbly legs, ( _“Holy shit, holy shit, when did he learn how to do that,” Orso says, scrambling to get Keith away from the table he was teetering towards dangerously, hands outstretched to catch himself on the edge._ ) and doesn’t shy away from chasing down whatever he happens to be after. 

He’s a little stubborn, that’s for sure---

 _And Virya would grin at him and say, “So what? I’m going to do it anyway. You’re either with me or not.”_

_“Getting involved would create a lot more problems than solutions, Virya---”_

_“And_ you _are a funsucker, Kolivan. Don’t you guys trust me?”_

_Thace rolls his eyes, Ulaz can tell, but there’s a unanimous agreement between all of them._

_And they follow._

Keith is trying to knot his hands into his hair when Ulaz blips back into reality, another new favorite habit that the toddler enjoys, ( _“You look like you have a nest in the bottom half of your hair,” Thace comments idly, and Ulaz just gives a pointed look at Keith, whose snaggle-tooth greets him as he smiles._ ) and Ulaz takes the toddler by the back of his shirt, tossing him away easily and onto the couch. The peels of laughter that greet him in response makes him remember something from too long ago, really---

 _“What are you going to name it?”_

_“I’m not sure. The due date is still rellums away, Ulaz. I’ll think about it when I get there. Besides, shouldn’t you be asking the bearer of the cub instead of me?”_

_“Well---”_

But Keith is _alive_ and _here_ , and Thace was right, when he had been describing him. Keith is bright and beautiful and _meant for something greater_ , something the Marmora won’t be able to handle. 

That odd sense of trepidation comes again when he notices Keith staring at him, violet irises reflecting the stars from the bay window, but the smile is almost too endearing to consider the endless watching off-putting. 

_Everything is going to begin and end with you, cub. I wonder if you know that._

Keith squints his eyes, bangs falling to cover that ethereal gaze, and Ulaz has to fight back a smile as he ruffles the mop of dark locks, making the curly hairs that much messier. Keith swats his hands away clumsily, a pout and agitated side glance all he gets before Keith is attempting to crawl into his lap. 

_“He’s going to destroy us from the inside out.”_

_“I know.”_

_But maybe it’ll be for the better._

“I think,” Ulaz starts, twirling a lock of dark hair between his fingers, “that we both need a haircut.” 

Keith grins at him. 

\---

 _And when they agree, Virya breaks out into such a blinding smile that Ulaz has to squint, but the others only share their own sharp smiles, excited and carefree._

_Virya has always had that effect on people; she’s pragmatic and contagious in a way no one can help but love. They’re drawn to her; to her strength and her undying love to her people but others that are_ not Galra, _a dangerous trait to harbor. But she gives a convincing visage, and she shines brighter than any glass smile, and she is someone that demands your attention. She is, in every way, a born leader._

_But she doesn’t want that, she says. She doesn’t want a pedestal._

_“Then what do you want?”_

_“...I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out when I get there, huh?” She says, her smile lopsided and sly, her response as assured as an actual answer, convincing in a way that it shouldn’t be. But she looks so strong, standing there with her arms crossed, a steel wall with no way in or no way out. People say they know Virya, but no one really does, and for some reason, Ulaz feels a sense of trepidation around her, as if he needs a reason to be careful._

_And he feels like he was right, when she finds out the truth and leaves for a very, very long time, after a bloody act she committed out of spite, really. She destroys her own pedestal, and he wonders if she’s proud of herself, since she never wanted it._

_But then she brings back a miracle, and he wonders if the endgame was always going to be Keith._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i am a terrible person  
> 1) EVERYONE suffers from ptsd as my headcanon in the story, but it affects them all in different ways bc theyve all dealt with different situations and everything expresses itself in more moderate or severe cases. the blades usually just pretend its not there, its p inconvenient in war to have mental health issues (but thats not to say that they still arent taken care of or anything !!! everyone helps each other out ,, nothing is just ,, ever directly stated ,,)  
> 2) thace suffers from sleep paralysis and ulaz has trouble with staying in focus/random memories coming back at certain moments. the littlest thing can trigger ulaz's perception and he goes into episodes pretty often, but theyre not usually severe ,, he just ,, kind of stares off ?? if youre wondering what was going on in those flashbacks just know that it was bad and everyone that went on that mission is still seriously suffering the consequences :(((  
> 3) keith is a cockblocker and you cant fight me on this  
> 4) ive noticed ?? that in some ?? screen caps ?? thace's eyes are like SUPER yellow like its kind of ?? a glowy look to him and compared to some other galra its kind of weird ?? it could just be me (i fucking wear glasses and am half blind thats probably exactly it lmao) but other galra's eyes dont look as pronounced ,, and while thace is embarrassed about it ulaz is still just ,, super entranced by his eyes ,,,,,, like its so pure and good ,,  
> 5) keith calling ulaz "yaz" is still my fav thing and if you disagree idk what to tell you man  
> 6) some of the flashbacks are from when thace and ulaz are young ,, like really young ,,  
> 7) youre probably wondering why keith is such a little shit half the time and all i can tell you is that im basing keith off of my own brother and sister who are, also, little shits :)))  
> 8) dont worry keith will start talking a lot more next chapter !! promise :))))  
> thats really all i have to ?? say ?????? but if you have any more questions/want to discuss anything here is some social media lmao:  
>  **instagram** : thegalraempire  
>  **tumblr** : [thegalraaempiree](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thegalraaempiree)  
>  **please feel free to ask me anything on tumblr or instagram !!!** i love fleshing out head canons with you guys and if you want to know more about my au just hmu in that ask box !! or send a chat !!! i love making friends i swear :)))  
>  but yeah thats basically about it ?? my tumblr is also v bad rn and i apologize i only made it like two weeks ago so im still getting used to it but art is hopefully coming soon !!!! i hope !!!!!!! :)))  
> thanks so much for reading and have a great day/night !!!!!!!!1


	4. age 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antok finds himself drawn to a language he can't understand. He also seems to be the only one that knows that Keith can talk perfectly fine, if not better, for his age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO sorry that this took ,, what ??? eight or nine months to get out ??? omg you have no idea how bad i feel :(( i've been working on chapter for literally AGES and i've never had the motivation to try and finish it unfortunately. those of you who know me know that i've been struggling with depression and everything sort of went to shit in august so hey :// i wouldnt say that im back permanently but i will try and update more frequently than what i have been. thank you to everyone that has left me a supportive response !! you have no idea how much that motivated me to finally finish this dumb chapter lmao
> 
> also, surprise !!! i know if you're subscribed to me you've seen that i've been publishing some things under the BTS fandom, however it's not as intricate as this. i'm super rusty with my writing bc it's just a simple chat fic, so if this seems way off from the other chapters, i apologize. however, i promise i'll come back and edit it later :)) if you're an army feel free to message me about my other fic !! i'd love to, and PLS message me about this one too !! i've been excited for these chapters for literally ever 
> 
> anyway, back to the subject at hand !!! antok !!!!!!!!! my son !!!! is here !!!!!! amazing !!!! incredible !!!!!!!!! rather than a parental bond, i want antok to have a brotherly bond with keith, i hope i made it obvious enough in the writing ?? that he's not really meant to be a parent ??? he's still p young lmao like ??? i think he's about twenty earth age or so ??? idk whatever it's all gucci, enjoy your angst and fluff :)) thank you for reading and sticking around !!! and thank you guys for all of the attention and love !! i still cant believe that this story has had the reception that it has ,,, its honestly p amazing and you guys make me so happy i love yall :)) to make up for some of the time lost i made this chapter a lot longer than the others :))
> 
> enjoy !!
> 
> tw: blood mention as well as descriptions of blood ?? but its galran blood so idk how triggering that will be but i thought i might as well add this here just in case :) also orso cusses but when does she not lmao

The recon mission was supposed to be simple. 

_Supposed to be_. 

But somewhere, it got messy. Somewhere it fell apart, and Antok knows it was a useless endeavor before they ever even reached the planet. It had _already been hopeless_. There was no saving anyone, there were no bodies, there was never _anything_. 

Sarli’dae’s voice is going to haunt him, he knows, crackling over the recording but never sent to be received. Somewhere, he wonders if she wanted this. If she wanted them _to see this_. And somewhere in the recesses of her scraping voice, he _understands_. She _knows_. She knows _everything_. 

_“It was always too late, wasn’t it?”_ The recording crackles, the _last message_ , and Aviyeira is gripping the circular device in her hands so hard that he can hear the ominous creaking of metal against metal, a grinding, gritty sound that reflects the visage she wears. 

And Antok knows this isn’t something he’s supposed to see, so he turns around and walks away. 

\---

Kolivan gives him a box. 

Kolivan gives him a box and tells him to do something with it, since there’s nothing of use to them within its confines, and Antok has half a mind to look into its contents and find its secrets, but instead he slides the box out of sight and into the darkness that hides under his sleeping quarters, and lets it burn a subconscious hole in the floor. 

Antok doesn’t open it because he knows who it belongs to, knows who it _belonged to_ , and knows that Kolivan gives it to him because he doesn’t want to have it in his own line of sight. Not anymore. 

And Antok lets it sit there, and burn a subconscious hole in his mind. 

\---

“---ause he _isn’t talking_. Like, _at all_. That’s not a little concerning to you?” 

And Antok pauses mid-step in the middle of the hallway even though he knows that he shouldn’t, simply for the fact that the subject of the matter at hand was _not concerning_. Not even a little bit. 

So, of course, the first thing out of his mouth in response to a conversation that he’s not even apart of is, “What are you talking about? Keith can talk fine.” 

And _that_ grabs everyone’s attention, because at least five pairs of eyes are suddenly on him, and Antok almost grimaces, realizing his mistake too late. Instead, he schools his expression and makes his way into the room, since he’s dug his own grave already, might as well go ahead and lie in it too.

“Antok.” Thace murmurs, and Antok gives him a swift salute, lowering his arm almost as soon as the action takes place. He’s more focused on the squirming child in his arms, but he can feel the way Thace’s eyes are trained on him, questioning and protective. 

Antok almost snorts in response, but manages to refrain. 

_When he rounds the corner, he’s not expecting the bright eyes that peer at him from the dark._

__

__

_He_ almost _reels back in surprise, but he recognizes the certain glow that permeates the silky black of the hallway, alone and penetrative. Antok’s eyebrows hike up as he approaches, but Keith doesn’t seem the least bit concerned._

__

_He grins up at Antok instead, and he finds it both endearing and slightly alarming._

__

_His hair has been cut, he notices. Rather than the dark wisps sitting at eye level, they now rest above his eyebrows, and the rest of the dark mane has been cropped shorter._

__

_It looks atrocious. Antok knows that Thace did it._

__

_He can only hope that Ulaz didn’t suffer the same fate._

__

_Up to this point, Antok made sure to steer clear of anything remotely Keith related. Even now, his eyes search the corridor for his caretakers, but he comes up empty, and frankly, he’s not sure that he wants to have a repeat of the last time he found Keith crawling in the hallways and took him straight to Thace._

__

_Crouching awkwardly, Antok clears his throat before speaking, “So, uh. The hallway. Probably not a place you’re supposed to be right now.”_

__

_Keith doesn’t even_ react, _the brat. If anything, he disregards Antok completely, looking past him and to the expanse of the corridor behind him. Antok almost growls at him, but stops short when Keith suddenly points, his eyebrows furrowing._

_“Your tail is bro’en.”_

That _has Antok’s own eyebrows doing acrobatics. On instinct, he flicks his tail forward to observe it, and realizes that this was what had Keith’s attention. He sees how the kid would think it_ is _broken, however, because it sure doesn’t look in top condition either. One side is completely seared away, the edges of flesh looking as if they had been ripped, uneven and still healing scars sit jaggedly in strange crisscrosses, and even the fur at the tip is burned, black as if someone had dusted ash over the strands._

_Yeah, okay, so the mission could’ve gone a little better._

_Looking up, he notices Keith quietly observing the sight as well, eyes trained precariously on him in question. It almost seems that his severe expression has deepened if anything, and without his consent, his visage has Antok cracking a smile._

_“Not broken. It’s just...hurt.” He clarifies gently, and Keith’s expression morphs into a more childlike demeanour, confusion softening his features marginally._

_“What’s gonna ‘appen to it?”_

_Antok self-consciously runs a clawed hand over the appendage, “It’ll heal, just like anything else.” He mutters, awkwardly, trying to maintain eye contact with Keith and failing miserably._

_He still struggles with the fact that the Marmora are willingly harboring a child on their base, like they’re some kind of_ daycare, _but Antok doesn’t resent Keith. He knows better than to approach him when any of his caretakers are around, and he wants to blame the fact that he doesn’t see him much based on that he doesn’t want to get on anyone’s bad side. He hadn’t been sure if Thace was comfortable with any kind of interaction between himself and the cub, and he’s not about to test his hypothesis out now._

_It’s also been far too long since he’s seen any kind of youth within seeing distance. It’s strange._

_And he knows it’s still not an excuse._

_Somewhere, under the scrutiny of Keith’s gaze, he feels like the child sees through him_ , through them all, _and it sends a twinge of discomfort down his spine._

_He ignores the feeling._

_“I’m ‘eith.”_

_The interruption startles him slightly, and Antok is about to say “of course I know who you are,” but realizes he isn’t exactly around enough for Keith to know that._

_Instead, he offers Keith a smile._

_“I’m Antok.”_

_He receives a grin of equal merit in return._

Antok only raises his eyebrows when he receives several blatantly unimpressed looks. Keith continues to sit tucked away in Thace’s arms, pale skin looking strangely out of place against the dark exterior of his armor, the expression Thace wears tired and almost sagely severe. 

It looks so domestic that Antok could laugh. 

“Believe me or not,” he confides, already beginning to back out of the room, desperate for an escape, “you’re all not giving him enough credit where it’s due.” 

Keith looks up at him then, staring, the set look on his face almost accusing. Antok returns the look, and Keith shuffles back to sit curled in the cradle of Thace’s arm.

And with that, Antok turns, and leaves the deafening silence of the room. 

\---

It starts just like that, really.

After the first interaction with Keith, the child takes to following him around. He seeks Antok out like a game, in all honesty, smiling to himself when he manages to track down the officer, and Antok can’t help but find himself enraptured by the child with violet eyes. 

_Keith’s face is scrunched when Antok finishes the call, sitting in the floor with a thin tablet, drawing petalled shapes across its surface, the tap of his fingers ceasing for a moment. Antok raises an eyebrow._

_He doesn’t have to wait long._

_“Why ‘ere you ‘alking like that?” Keith asks, innocent but perceptive; the kind of perceptive that is going to end up getting him into trouble, Antok thinks._

_“Like what?” Antok asks, just to see how Keith would react, really._

_He’s not disappointed._

_Keith makes sure to shoot him a frustrated frown, “You ‘ere talking weird, I couldn’t understand you.” He replies, face unsure and suspicious, looking up at Antok now through the horrendous bangs that miraculously still fall into his eyes._

_“That’s because I was speaking a language you don’t know.” Antok replies, pulling his chair forward in order to retrieve a book sitting within one of the drawers in his work desk, before flipping it open. “Come here.”_

_Keith obliges._

_Keith obliges by_ shamelessly crawling _right into his lap._

_Like a heathen._

_Antok has to fight the urge to not feel uncomfortable, to push Keith off and away, but he manages to stand his ground._

_He almost face palms at the fact that he just compared_ cub sitting _to some kind of_ war zone tactic. 

_Keith barely takes up the expanse of his right leg, the book almost as big as he is, so reaching around him isn’t as hard as Antok pretends it might be.The fact that he’s giving a lesson to the child of a traitor just seems a bit erroneous, and Antok can’t help but wonder if Keith knows just where his mother has dumped him, her responsibilities and rank replaced with her child._

_A child that will be a first-hand witness to the atrocities of war. A child that is always constantly in danger, and doesn’t even know it._

_Antok ceases his train of thought._

_Pointing to the left page with a claw, he reads the script back to Keith, whose eyebrows are drawn down in attentive concentration. Antok has to hide a smile._

_“This is the traditional dialect of Galran society, older than even some of the planets existing in our area of this solar system.” Antok explains, patiently, pointing to the symbols scrawled in smudged black ink, “Of course, you can’t read yet. But you can still see the difference between Galran and what we most commonly speak, and what you know.” Antok reiterates, now pointing to the right page; the translation, the symbols sleeker and more rounded, compared to the complicated angles of Galran letters._

_“Galatic Common is the most universally known language among every corner of existence. If you don’t know the basics then you might as well consider yourself unfit for space travel.” Antok mutters over Keith’s head, the child’s stubby fingers tracing the letters with uncertainty._

_“Wha’ about the others?”_

_“What?”_

_“The other lang’ages.” Keith frowns, the word obviously uncomfortable in his mouth, turning to look up at Antok with those iridescent eyes, teeming with questions that Antok isn’t sure he wants to answer._

_“Uh, well,” Antok starts awkwardly, turns the pages over towards the back, “There are the Frusians, Ulis, and Resqirians. They all share a common language since they are in such close contact to each other in their solar system, but only within the roots. Their respective languages are vastly their own.”_

_“That’s dumb.”_

_Antok has to bite back a laugh in surprise, “Yeah, it kinda is.”_

_“Wouldn’t it be easier if ‘veryone ‘poke the same thing?” Keith asks, perceptive as always, and Antok sits back and sighs._

_“Well, it’s not that easy.” He replies, trying to think of a way to properly explain, “People can be...proud. Prideful, they call it. Being prideful means you may not want to give something up that makes up what you are as a person. Pride causes fighting, Keith.”_

_Pride causes war, he doesn't say._

_Keith turns away, eyes staring at the book that continues to sit balanced on Antok’s leg._

_“Do you have pride?” The child asks, not looking at him._

_“I would like to think so,” Antok starts, struggling to find the right words, hating that Keith has questions that always manage to catch him off guard._ A child. _It’s ridiculous._

_“While pride can cause...fights, it also isn’t always a bad thing,” Antok states, “Where you are, with us, with Thace and Ulaz and Aviyeira, we’re all fighting some very bad people. We’re prideful on...attempting to make a change.”_

_“Why?” Keith asks, genuine, his favorite question, that childlike demeanour so very_ real, _and it leaves Antok lost for a moment._

_(“Why?” They had asked him, so long ago, when Antok had given the child the gun. They don’t understand, they never understand, really. There is ash and dust and blood around their eyes, and they shakily hold the weapon in their hands._

_Antok wishes they didn’t have to understand._

_“Why do I need this?” The child whispers, looking at Antok for answers. They’re young, younger than him, even, and Antok doesn’t look at them when he answers, smearing blood across the child’s clothes by accident when he gently pushes them forward to start walking.)_

_“Because sometimes we don’t have a choice in what battles we fight.” Antok states, low, and he suddenly feels the exhaustion that exists within his chest. That empty nothing that sits there, chained._

_Keith doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but the answer seems to sate him._

_He turns back to the book, points to a random paragraph, “What ‘bout this?”_

_Antok is almost glad for the distraction._

_“That’s Altean,” He mutters, resisting the urge to close the book and usher Keith away._

_“A dead language.”_

\---

Eventually, Antok opens the box, because no one will try to stop him anyway. 

It’s filled with books, that much he can tell. However, they aren’t glass tablets or encrypted tabs filled with any kind of useful information. It’s paper held together by a woven spine; some of the covers are hard while others are just as bendable and pliant as the paper that it holds. 

He can’t read the the words on some of the covers, but he can tell most of them are a very dissolved version of Galactic Common, almost to the point that it’s unrecognizable. 

He opens some of them, finds the words are ones he can’t easily translate, but when he turns pages, there is more paper attached, sickenly bright to the point that it almost hurts Antok’s eyes. It’s stuck to the pages like some kind of glue, and Antok doesn’t try to lift them. However, the writing on the brightly colored notes are something that stands out to him because it’s written in Galran. The handwriting makes the letters look softer, less jagged and more rounded.

It is where Virya leaves herself hints, clues about words or a passage she doesn’t understand. There is a name that Antok can’t recognize in several of the notes, but there remains a circled reminder, the name always the same: _“Ask Akira.”_

He looks at the effort that went into some of the covers; one he finds himself a bit enamored with, due to the lush green imagery within a sinking valley, the words _“Wuthering Heights”_ written across the top in swirling lettering. He doesn’t know what the words mean, and he sets the book aside. 

There are more encased in the box, almost like a tomb without a body, and Antok carefully sorts through all of them. There is a cover that is bright, something large and vast over the horizon of a civilization of some kind, with eyes set in the sky, _“The Great Gatsby”_ written across the cover stylistically. _“The Mayor of Casterbridge,” “The Odyssey,” “Catch-22,” “Fahrenheit 451,” “To Kill a Mockingbird,” “Lord of the Flies,” “The Scarlet Letter,” “Harry Potter.”_

Antok does not understand the words, does not understand why Virya would have these books in her possession, _does not understand_. But he can see where her claws have dug into the pages, indents left on the covers or its confines, can see the brightly colored notes sticking out in some areas, can see where she has written in the margins, forgoing the notes altogether. 

Antok does not know what to make of them. 

Especially as Antok begins to reach the bottom.

The books become thinner, barely there, and some are nothing more than just several papers woven together. _“The House on Mango Street,”_ is oddly colored, thin in its entirety, the pages falling apart at the seams, obviously having been opened too many times to count. Antok can see all of the claw indents on each page, where the paper has ripped and torn with some kind of residual damage. 

The papers he pulls up have nothing more than several lines of words printed onto them, before ending. They tend to only be a page long, but others go on just a bit longer, like tagging on an afterthought. 

One of these papers catches his attention. 

There is a brown stain across most of the expanse of the frail paper, but the substance never brushes the words, as if it had given up in its efforts. Instead, it leaves the areas that have been infected crinkly and breakable, and Antok takes great care not to ruin it. 

The title is different from the others. 

He can tell, because the arrangement of letters is almost entirely new compared to the previous texts, and Antok frowns slightly. 

_Dulce et Decorum Est_.

And there beside the title, is Virya’s handwriting: _“Ask Akira.”_

The following lines imitate the previous texts perfectly, and for a moment, Antok doesn’t understand why the title happens to be completely different, whereas everything else is uniform. However, upon closer inspection, he sees it. The last lines are printed oddly, meant to stand out, but Antok recognizes the order as being similar with the title.

_Dulce et decorum est_

_Pro patria mori._

The title and the final lines are tied together, but Antok isn’t sure why, or for what reason. He almost wishes that Virya just hadn’t even brought her Terran things with her, because it seems to bring a lot more confusion than anything. 

He pulls the rest of the contents from the box, and there, at the bottom, sits a lone note. An innocent blue, it holds a dark ink that spells out a short letter in Galran:

 _“Something to help Keith remember me by. A gift of my favorite Terran books and poems. Teach him.”_

Antok snorts. Easier said than done, since he doesn’t even know the language himself. 

But he can learn, and he will. 

He packs the box back up, lays the frail papers on top this time, but leaves out the one he finds the most interest in. 

He lays _Dulce et Decorum Est_ on a nearby desk, the short note laying innocently on top. 

Antok enters his sleep cycle, and dreams about a language he can’t understand. 

\---

“Why?”

“Because it’s my job.”

“Why?”

“Because no one else can or will do it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a lot of hard work.”

“Why?”

“Because there is a lot I have to translate, I have to make sure the words aren’t wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because our systems wouldn’t work right otherwise.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how it was built to operate.”

“Why?”

“Because it was the easiest and most efficient way at the time.”

“Why?”

“Because it was a long time ago so there weren’t many other materials around.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Keith nods, like he understands everything that Antok just said, before wandering back off to his corner to continue playing with his tablet. Antok almost rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the exasperated smile that works it’s way onto his face. 

\---

Kolivan tells him that the signal is from a ship no one has seen or heard from in years. Aviyeira sucks in a breath beside him, as if in pain, but doesn’t say anything or interrupt besides that. She’s practically vibrating on the spot, and when Kolivan assigns the recon mission to him, to simply scope out what remains they can salvage, Aviyeira looks at him with pleading eyes. 

He almost doesn’t confirm that he wants her to participate, but later, he will wish that he had. 

He chooses her then and there, and as the few other rebels disperse around them, Aviyeira gives him a blinding, relieved smile, her fangs digging into her bottom lip. Her eyes look glossy in the light, but her voice is steady when she assures him that she will be ready to leave whenever preparation is complete.

And then she does something odd. She doesn’t salute him, rather, takes a clawed hand and rests it over her collarbones as she bows, nearly down to the floor. Antok feels struck dumb for a moment. The gesture is only ever used to show utmost respect, but is a very Galran tradition in its usage. He almost forgets, sometimes, that this culture is where he came from, where he was _raised_. He forgets these things, when he is constantly fighting those that share a race with him. 

Aviyeira rises, slowly, finishing the gesture with a fist over her abdomen, as the other arm lays resting against the small of her back. Antok, sluggishly, repeats the gesture back, unsure but willing, and Aviyeira smiles at him again, with a fond undertone, all brashness gone. 

She leaves him there alone after saluting him. 

He allows himself to feel a bit lost for a moment, there in the common room. 

\---

 _Antok is nine when the war starts._

_He is born on a dusty planet with millions of other Galra, who have been transitioned to one of the many war colonies in order to bulk up numbers. The planet born Galra and the Galra that descend from the sky are different in every entirety, however. How they dress, walk, talk_ , breathe. 

_He remembers how the non-planet born Galra sneer at them as though they are lesser. They are dressed in military attire, the Empire’s insignia almost painfully stark against the dark uniforms. They carry guns and swords and whips and are the rulers of every aspect of life._

_Planet born Galra are grimy and dirty and work in mines and build the empire’s guns and swords and whips. They raise factories from the ground up and pledge their loyalty to the empire and its needs. They are expendable, Antok hears. They are all expendable and they are proud of it._

_The insurgence is catastrophic._

_The entirety of the planet is bombed, as forces come from the sky to reign in the rebellion. Antok watches his race destroy each other, and it is something he didn’t know was possible. He didn’t know it was okay to want something better, to want equality and equity. To kill to achieve._

_He shoots an officer with his own gun, one day, and leaves him there to die._

_Antok feels nothing._

_He really only feels the slick of magenta and violet on his arms and clothes, proof that these are higher-bred Galra. The military. Antok’s wounds are a dull yellow, and suddenly he understands._

_They are of the same race, but never the same blood._

_The rebellion lasts for too long, Antok thinks. There is so much ash in the sky he cannot find the stars at night or the daylight of a new day afterwards. There is only a dark, sullen, miserable blanket. Sometimes, ships will break the barrier of the ash and land, attempting to calm the insurgence but Antok knows, even then, that it is too late._

_They are just another planet in a no-name solar system, so he supposes it doesn’t really matter anymore, anyway. The empire can get more. More people, more guns and swords and whips, more land, more power._

_It is never too late for the empire, after all. But his home, his planet, his people, his_ being, _are in ruin now. Just as the the Emperor ordered, and just as the Empire obeyed. Destroy the rebellion._

Vrepit sa, _Antok remembers vaguely. Words of allegiance that he never meant._

_Victory or death._

_Here, on his planet, Antok has become victory._

_But he understands now, that there can be death without actually dying._

\---

The trip to the planet is silent, besides the occasional question about trajectory and warps. 

Aviyeira sits with both hands against the steer of the ship, eyes set ahead and unmoving. Her grip is almost deadly, agitated and anxious, and Antok finds himself growing jittery just looking at her. He lets her be, as much as he wishes she would find some semblance of calm. 

And the silence carries on. 

The planet comes into view, finally, only several moments later. Antok has a strange sense of foreboding, as the massive structure of the sphere becomes more and more visible. It is a lush planet, and Antok can make out the reddish haze of overgrown plant life. The dipping valley along the equator reminds him, vaguely, of the book he picked up from the box that Virya had left behind. The imagery is almost uncanny. 

He forgoes the protocol of preparation of ship landing. Aviyeira seems to be in a strange phase of concentration, and Antok feels obligated not to break it. She steers the ship to the other hemisphere of the planet, where the signal is located, and they begin their descent. 

The sun is rising when they break the clouds. 

He can see the wreckage from here, and he knows Aviyeira can too, with the way she releases a shaky breath, a mortified _no_ leaving her lips silently. 

The ship looks out of place in the field of red, the grass grasping at the flesh of the ship from the outside, vines working their way into crevices, as if it they know the machinery does not belong there. There is a trail of upturned dirt where the ship dragged as it landed, long and impossibly deep. The grass is only just attempting to grow again, little wisps of red in the deep burgundy of the dirt, attempting to cover up what has gone awry. 

Aviyeira lands the ship with a thud, and is all but launching herself out of the pilot seat, ducking under the still opening door and landing gracefully in the grass. Antok finds himself following just as urgently, the need to _know_ grating in his bones, but not for the same reasons as Aviyeira. 

She is tearing down the thick of the vines where they have grown over the doorway when Antok gets there, before slamming her hand against the panel. Incredibly, it still works, identifying her easily and allowing them both access to the insides of the ship. 

Aviyeira puts a hand over her mouth when they enter. 

There is yellow all over the walls, bright and ugly against the interior, where it has dried too thickly to turn rustic against the exposure to air. Antok can’t tell if it’s all from one person or if the entire crew was miraculously in pieces by the time the ship crashed. 

There are no bodies. No limbs, no uniforms, _no nothing._

Aviyeira walks forward first. 

Her steps are shaky but purposeful, reaching the panel of the ship, carefully avoiding the dried blood on the walls and floor. There, on the dash, sits a recording device, crooked against a switch. 

She pauses, before looking back, as if just remembering that Antok is there. Her eyes are glassy in the light of the rising sun from the window, but her tears do not spill yet. She questions him without speaking, searching him for an answer that he cannot give. 

He still nods anyway.

When she hits play, Antok is hit with the force of a voice long gone. Aviyeira releases a choked noise, like an aborted sob, and her tears have finally spilled over, drenching the soft skin around her eyes thickly. 

_“You know,”_ Sarli’dae’s voice cracks, _“We’ve been fighting under one uniting factor for so long, I almost forgot what it meant. Knowledge or death.”_ She sounds resigned, and Antok has to wonder if she is within the confines of the ship during the recording, with the way her voice echoes. 

_“Looks like I chose death.”_ Sarli’dae laughs, but it is bitter and terribly twisted. _“It was always too late, wasn’t it?”_

Antok feels detached for a moment, like he is looking at the scene out of his body. He understands, now. Sarli’dae found out. _She knows._

He wonders what this must look like, from the outside. What may be lurking in the forest just a few steps away, and what it sees. A sunrise behind a long fallen ship, peaceful in its own kind of demented bliss. There is no telling what is inside, what is happening, how Antok is watching Aviyeira fall apart. No one ever sees the blood, no one ever sees the sacrifice. No one ever sees _anything._

Antok leaves the ship and allows Aviyeira some time alone, to listen to the rest of the recording. He leans against the ship and pulls at the thick leaves of the ivy as he waits, watching the sunrise until the star becomes a blistering off-white orb in the sky. 

Loss is common in the Blade. Their numbers are already small and always seem to get smaller, because they are against an unfair magnitude of power. But nothing is ever fair, Antok knows. He learned that the hard way, already, when he was too young to be holding a gun and learning how to shoot. He has learned that in the Marmora as well, and he wonders, vaguely, when their sacrifices will amount to _enough_. Enough to allow them the small miracle of _victory_ , rather than just _knowledge_. 

Aviyeira tumbles out of the ship, and throws the recorder on the ground, before digging her heel into the device. It crumbles under her strength pitifully, sparks flying into the grass but never catching, and she continues to dig until there is nothing but defeated shrapnel in the red, red grass, glinting against the sun like a million tiny beacons. 

She holds a chip in her hand. 

_Knowledge._

Her face is set in a dreadful visage, her tears long gone, but Antok can see where she has become no more. The light in her eyes is gone. 

_Death._

“I’ll pilot.” He tells her, quietly. 

She doesn’t answer. 

\---

Orso walks into the kitchen at the same time he is walking out, and she looks somewhat perplexed. 

Antok raises an eyebrow in question, and Orso stares at him. 

“Keith talked.”

His other eyebrow raises in answer. 

“Like--Like a fuckin’ _scholar_. Tinok asked him a question and Keith didn’t even hesitate. Spouted a full fuckin’ _sentence_. What the _hell_.” 

“Did he now.” Antok answers, knowingly, and Orso just looks at him as she grabs some kind of liquid out of the cooling unit.

“You were right and we didn’t believe you. You were _right_.”

Antok leaves her alone with that, a somewhat self-satisfied smile on his face. He wonders if this gives him some form of bragging rights. 

\---

Aviyeira turns in a temporary resignation letter to Kolivan, and he watches her numbly pass it forward before stepping back. 

Kolivan approves it, doesn’t even really look at it.

She looks at Antok before she leaves, and he gives pause. 

Because there is a fight in her eyes. He feels strangely relieved as he watches her go, a bag slung over her shoulder all the while, her steps heavy and impending as they echo down the hall.

He doesn’t see her again for a long, long time. 

\---

_Dulce et decorum est_

_Pro patria mori._

Antok rereads the words, again, _again_ , and still can’t understand. Virya has left little to no clues as to what it means. He still only has a vague sense of this language, this distilled version of something he already knows, but he knows _enough_. He can’t make sense of it, still. 

_Keith frowns, touching the stain on the paper, clearly unafraid of the consequences. Antok has to quickly swipe the paper out of his hands before he tears it._

_“What’s that?” Keith asks, in mild disgust. Antok smiles._

_“A poem with some flavor.” Antok replies, proud of his joke, and puts the paper onto his desk. Keith cautiously approaches it, peers over at it from where he stands. Even on the balls of his feet, he is too short to see the paper, and he appears frustrated. Antok finds it endearing._

_“What’s it say? Those words ‘ook weird.” He mutters, still trying to catch a glimpse._

_“I’m not sure yet. But once I find out I promise I’ll teach you, how does that sound?” Antok promises, and Keith’s face lights up ever so slightly. He’s such a serious child, naturally a bit grumpy, that the visage of lightheartedness on his young face is almost bizarre._

_“Now.” Keith demands, slapping a chubby hand against a drawer in tandem, as if to get his point across._

_“Later.” Antok warns, and the light in Keith’s face fades a little. Losing interest, he walks back to his designated corner in the room, and doesn’t say anything until Thace comes looking for him later._

He still has no idea what the brown stain all over the paper could possibly be, but it has caused the page to be fragile to the touch, as if it could fall apart at any moment. He doesn’t want Keith getting his hands on anything like this. The last thing that boy is, is _gentle._

Antok flips the page over and finds the words he’s been looking for all the while, sitting precariously in the corner of the paper, hiding. 

It is so small he can barely see it, but he sees it clearly now, sitting in the recesses of the stain on the back of the paper, smudged and faded, but still legible. The Galran is written in a handwriting he has seen too many times to count now, and he frowns at the small, neat writing. The translation for the last lines, he realizes, are written here, in this neat, faded script. He wonders if Virya’s hands were shaking while writing, because her letters are sharper than normal, jagged and hard. 

Antok understands why. 

_Dulce et decorum est_

_Pro patria mori._

_It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country._

Antok feels slightly sick, reading the words, far too familiar. Far too meaningful. He wonders if the weight they carry from the Terran planet is the same as the weight that is carried here, where an empire rules almost half of the entire universe. Where its citizens would be more than glad to lay down their lives for their ruler and his empire, where they would be considered a hero.

Antok supposes he can’t say he is much different; death holds the same value where he fights all the same.

He vaguely wonders if this makes him just as expendable as the empire finds its citizens. 

He doesn’t want an answer to his own question. 

Antok puts the poem into the bottom of the box where he hopes to not have to look at it anymore, and be reminded of what he already knows, but tries to ignore. 

He falls into his sleep cycle and dreams about fire in the sky, and watches as battle cruisers disrupt the ash as they land.

 _Sweet and fitting indeed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAA okay i literally finished this at three in the morning and i had my beta reader read it over for me thank you bby ilysm much you saved my life by proofreading this for me hhhhhh anyway im very sleep deprived and some mistakes may still be there but i edited it the best i could so all mistakes are mine and im sorry !!!  
> -anyway: I LOVE ANTOK MORE THAN I LOVE MYSELF !!! he becomes keith's accidental babysitter oops ,, and he'll probably end up teaching keith how to read and write !! before he is appointed to be kolivan's right hand man he was a communications and battle strategy officer and he basically dealt with all the shit no one wanted to do lmao  
> -also the books and poems and shit are all classics that i have read and really enjoyed !! except for some of the last ones listed but house on mango street is my fav story ever i love it so much just be careful when reading it it gets super dark there towards the end :// and the poem is called Dulce et Decorum Est, the latin would probably remind you of a desert or something but its actually a war poem and its one of the only poems that has ever really stuck out to me majorly !! i love it so much !! id had a plan to include the poem into this story forever and i didnt think i would use it this early but here we are, so yeah i did not come up with that go and give all the love to the original creator !!!  
> -i think its funny that antok found all those sticky notes and was just like "what the fuck" LMAO my humor is sad and pitiful im sorry   
> -antok was raised on a war colony and they ended up rebelling but the empire just kinda destroyed them and left them there to die ://   
> -poor av and sar man like ,, they def got the worst of it in the story :// sorry guys ,, don't worry tho av will be back at some point in the future just not for a while ,, also about the temporary resignation thing its super rare for a blade to do that so generally if someone asks for one kolivan understands its serious ,, the blade are under a pledge of commitment so he knows she aint about to dispel all their secrets and shit lmao  
> -keiths fav word is why and i love it !! if youre wondering why he seems to be talking a lot better and is suddenly forming full sentences, hes always had the capabilities but no one ever really asked until antok came along. keith knows he can always get away with more if the others think he doesnt know better but trust me, he def does. this is just some of his galran and human biology having a nice mix up and making his development and understanding more fast pace. a three year old would be talking at this point but wouldnt really be on keith's level. :)  
> -thace dont know how to cut hair for shit lmao  
> -i hope i made the brotherly bond clear ?? sorry if it doesnt look that way :// like i said my writing is really rusty and probably kinda gross :((  
> -thank you guys so much for reading !! comments, questions, concerns ?? feel free to let me know :)) ALSO IF YOU WANT TO SCREAM ABOUT THE BLADES OF MARMORA WITH ME PLS DO !!! and dont be afraid to give me asks on tumblr and stuff too !!  
> ALSO !! some people have asked about art and all i can say is FUCK YEAH i might even add some art into the story and give you guys credit :) i would draw and stuff im decent at best but i dont usually have the time nor do i have the equipment but i would love to see whatever you guys create !! i love stuff like that :)) 
> 
> heres my shit:  
> my tumblr: [thegalraaempiree](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard)
> 
> my twitter: [loldontcarebye](https://twitter.com/loldontcarebye)
> 
> my instagram: [hyungsofbts](https://www.instagram.com/hyungsofbts/)
> 
> thank you so much for reading ily guys !!! :) -aliv

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: thegalraaempiree  
> instagram: soopproductions, thegalraempire, and thedadsofmarmora


End file.
